Disabled
by Pixel Whipped
Summary: In which Clint finds out he's deaf. Comics heavy.


_You're deaf, clint._

The words were spoken so slowly, so quietly. No...not quietly. That's just how they resonated in his ears. The words echoed, bounced around, reverberated painfully in his mind. It was a heavy weight that he couldn't fathom at such a young age.

_Do you understand, Clint?_

How could he? He'd just been told he would be deaf for the rest of his life. Sure, it was only eighty percent, but that was still a whole lot of majority for something he was used to being there. Shaking his head, he reached a hand up to gingerly touch the bandages over his ears. How in _God's name _could he be so unlucky that he was _stabbed in the ears_? Better yet, where was his backup? Shouldn't he have had backup?

The memories flooded back in a hurry, his hand trembled in his lap now, pallid fingers aching and digging into the cloth of the sheet until his knuckles were white. "Where's Kate?"

_She's fine._

A sign of relief escaped his lips before he looked down at his lap again. How was he going to tell Natasha? How was this going to affect his career? This certainly meant that his time as an Avenger were over, and he doubted that was ever going to come back to him. He'd eventually have to tell his girlfriend, Jess, but until then-

_There are options. Surgeries, cochlear implants..._

The words were coming to him slower than usual, his processing speed was pretty much null by now. But that might have been the concussion talking. At least he could make out _just a little bit _of what they were saying. As if someone was yelling from very far away, trying to get his attention, or whispering breathily against his ears...tickling his mind. "Surgeries? Implants? Where's Jess? I'm not making any decisions without her, she deserves to be part of this. Has anyone even told her yet?"

_She's en route. She should be here shortly; would you like to talk to the doctor?_

Long pause, information being sorted and processed in the annals of his mind. It dawned on him, then, that something was missing. Where _was _the doctor? He shook his head fiercely, growling under his breath. This was going to be a _long _recovery, if at all. Losing a sense wasn't so easily overcome.

Sensing that he wanted to be left alone, the male nurse shook his head and left the room, but not before leaving a pamphlet on his bedside table.

He didn't eat, he didn't drink, he just stared blankly at the paper in front of him. So many reasons to the good, not a single excuse not to do the surgery. Finally, he opened up the glossy pamphlet and looked it over.

_Cochlear Implants have widely been used in experimental studies since late 2014 for people that are either born deaf, or profoundly deaf. Unlike a typical hearing aid, a Cochlear device works by repairing the damaged parts of the ear so that a person may be able to hear. A normal hearing aid simply amplifies sound, whereas an implant allows for the wearer to hear as if he had never been deaf. With new developments every day, as well as technological improvements from the brilliant minds at Stark and Parker Industries, you'll be able to hear better in no time._

Tossing the pamphlet over to the table, he grumbled under his breath. _Stark Industries_, of course. He barely noticed the tall ebony haired figure standing in the shadows, studying him. She didn't speak for some time and instead crossed the distance and sat in the chair beside his bed. Her hand reached for his, gently stroking his fingers. They were bruised and battered from the fight he'd escaped, but he was alive, and she was thankful for that. "Clint, you were supposed to come back to me in one piece." She replied sardonically against his cheek, with just enough octave so he could hear it. "This wasn't what you promised me."

"I'm sorry, Jess. I didn't mean to-" There was a lull in conversation, his voice low. "I'm sure you don't want a boyfriend who's deaf and dumb."

She kissed his head, shaking her own. "You're an idiot, Clint Barton. I'd have you no matter how you looked, what you'd done, or if you were missing pieces. I love you for you, not what you bring to the table. You can overcome this - you can overcome anything. So, uh, it just so happens that I know sign-language. I guess I know what we're going to be doing while you wait for that broken leg to heal."

She was very understanding - spoke slowly so he could comprehend and understand. It was a small blessing, given his situation. Being laid up in a hospital bed and having his girlfriend telling him it was all going to be okay was a nice fantasy, but there was still the issue of the Avengers. "Am I going to be forced into retirement?"

"Are you kidding me? The diversity on the team would be incredible. They're not going to kick you out. Besides...you know Tony is going to push for the implants. It _is _partly his own technology." Jess curled up beside him in the bed, her body wrapping flawlessly against his. She rest a hand gently on his chest, smiling up at him. "Clint."

When he looked down, she was offering him a hand signal, one that he was all-too familiar with. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated. Just a pinkie, index, and thumb. And to him, that was all that mattered right now.


End file.
